


When The Festival Came To Town

by Medie



Category: Hardy Boys - Dixon, Murder She Wrote, Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-23
Updated: 2010-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just a festival for mystery buffs, it isn't Woodstock!</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Festival Came To Town

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://raisintorte.livejournal.com/profile)[**raisintorte**](http://raisintorte.livejournal.com/) for my Birthday Drabble-A-Thon.

Cabot Cove was swarming and Seth Hazlitt was fuming. It was, Jessica surmised, a matter of balance on some level. The more outsiders who invaded his fair little hometown sanctuary, the more ornery he became on the whole thing.

"I tell you, Jessica, there's no picking any sense to it. Pure pandemonium from end of the cove to the other." Seth thumped his coffee mug down on the tabletop hard enough to make her wince.

"Oh _Seth_," she scolded, putting another slice of blueberry pie before him. Better to let him decimate her baked goods than her kitchen. "Don't be ridiculous, the festival is turning out to be the best thing that's happened to Cabot Cove in quite a while." Cutting out a slice of the pie for herself, Jessica refilled her and Seth's coffee cups before she sat down. "Even you have to see the good it's been doing for the businesses here. Why, the restaurants in town are packed for every meal."

"What I see," Seth intoned around a mouthful of pie, "is garbage coating the streets, all sorts of young hooligans carousing around every corner. I tell you, Jess, the mess they're going to leave Cabot Cove in? Well, I expect it'll take near an eternity to restore the town to proper working order."

It took no small effort Jessica to avoid rolling her eyes. _Seth_," she shook her head, exasperated. "Really. It's just a festival for mystery buffs, it isn't Woodstock!" She laughed. "Honestly, Seth Hazlitt, there are days that I really wonder about you." She bit into her pie, chewing carefully before continuing, "I'll have you to know that I've spent some there, helping to set up and what not, and I think things are going quite smoothly. Frankly, I'm already looking forward to it coming back next year."

"Well, of course you would have to say that, Jessica," Seth said, smiling at her. "You are Cabot Cove's world renowned 'Mistress of Murder', after all." He brought up his hands to make quotes around the title given to her by the festival brochures. Much to Jessica's chagrin, Seth was delighting in reminding her of it at every available opportunity. "You could hardly disparage a festival at which you are a celebrated participant."

"Especially not one that I genuinely enjoy," she said. "And not one being run by my niece. Why Seth, you should be ashamed of yourself. Can you imagine how poor Nancy would feel if she heard you talking about the festival like this? She's been working on it for _months_."

Seth had the good grace to look abashed. "Well, now, Nancy is a fine girl, Jessica, you know yourself that I'm quite fond of her. She's grown into a rather remarkable young lady with all those accomplishments of hers. However, I must say that even remarkable young ladies can make grievous errors in judgment and I believe she's done so with this so-called festival."

Jessica laughed and got up to rinse off her dish and mug. "Oh Seth, sometimes I really do despair." She waited until he'd scraped the last of the blueberry from his plate before taking his as well.

"I know you disagree, Jessica," he said, "but I simply cannot abide that festival."

"Sourpuss," she said affectionately, giving his shoulder a playful slap as she passed. "Now, come on, get your coat. We're going to be late if you don't hurry up."

"And just where exactly are we going?" he asked suspiciously, getting up despite the question.

Slipping into her favorite sweater, Jessica smiled and said sweetly, "Why Seth Hazlitt, you're going to walk me down to that festival you proclaim to hate and we're going to visit with Nancy, perhaps we may even find the opportunity to have a nice time. Now, hurry up," she shooed him, "I don't want to be late."

Pocketing her house keys, she left him standing in the kitchen, staring after her in shock. "Are you coming?" She asked, stopping on the porch and holding back a chuckle as she counted off the seconds that it took for him to appear in the doorway, grumbling to himself.

The man hadn't changed in thirty years and she found it as reassuring as she sometimes found it maddening. "I'm sorry, Seth, but I didn't quite catch that," she said, keeping her tone light with just a touch too much innocence.

He caught on immediately, of course, giving her a reproachful look. "Jessica Fletcher, you are having entirely too much fun at my expense," he complained, good-naturedly as he tucked her arm over his. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

She laughed as they began strolling through the town, heading toward the festival grounds along with everyone else.

-

"Ah, Joe!" Jessica reached out, grasping the shoulder of the young, blond-haired man and smiling a hello. "Have you seen Nancy?"

Joe turned away from the gaggle of teenaged girls waiting for sodas to smile at Jessica and Seth. "Not for a while, but in this crowd, that's no surprise." He looked over the crowd, stretching up on his toes to see. "I know she's been setting up for tomorrow's murder, she's been running everywhere like a crazy woman." He dropped back to his feet and thought about it. "Try the library, that's where it's supposed to go down."

"We will, thank you," she patted his hand in thanks and left him to his admirers, towing Seth toward the library.

"Did that young man say _murder_?" Seth asked, just this side of scandalized.

"Oh yes," Jessica said, really rather excited about the whole thing. "We're staging a murder tomorrow, it's going to be quite fun. Festival attendees will help solve it, possibly even take a turn as red herrings, oh it'll be wonderful." She squeezed his arm, smiling as she added, "I volunteered you as the victim."

"I beg your pardon!"

-

The library was dark as they walked up the front steps, no sign of any activity in time. "I'm not sure that she's here," Jessica said thoughtfully, opening the door and turning on the lights. "Oh my _word_."

"Well now," Seth chuckled, "Jess, would this be a part of the festivities?"

Jessica held back her own laughter as Nancy and her young man scrambled apart, nervous fingers fumbling the buttons on their shirts as they hastened to fasten them. "Not that I recall," she said.

"Aunt Jess! You're back." Nancy smoothed her hair into place and took a steadying breath, her chest rising and falling with the slow, even action. "I thought you'd gone home for the evening."

"Well, I had, but I decided to drop by for a few hours and see how things were turning out with the crowd." Jessica took in the situation, smiling. "This must be your Frank that I've heard so much about. It's lovely to meet you, Frank."

Frank Hardy cleared his throat and grinned, cheeks red. "Yes, Mrs. Fletcher, it's a pleasure to finally meet you too, Nancy's been talking about us both it seems."

"She's inclined to do that," Jessica teased, smiling at Nancy as she shook Frank's hand then made the introductions between Seth and Frank. "Sorry about the interruption," she said in a low murmur as she stepped aside with Nancy.

Nancy grinned. "No problem, we were just working and got a little...distracted." She leaned against a table and looked past Jessica to Frank and Seth. The two men had moved in the other direction and were talking quietly. "Should I be worried?" she asked, gesturing at them.

Jessica turned to look, watching as Seth put a hand on Frank's shoulder. "Oh I doubt it," she said. "He's just questioning him as to his intentions. You may find, Nancy, that the next time you and Frank get 'distracted', you might think to lock the door.

Watching the men talk, the two women started to laugh.


End file.
